


Moxxi's Best Touch

by RagnaRoxy



Category: Borderlands, borderlands 2 - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, gratuitous capslock, wrote this while drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 00:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9692084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagnaRoxy/pseuds/RagnaRoxy
Summary: Moxxi has a brief moment of downtime, and spends it in exactly the way you think she would.





	

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this while drunk, hence the capslock.

HER MIND FLASHED BACK TO THE LAST DAYS OF THE UNDERDOME, SHINING GOLDEN IN THE PANDORA SUNSET…

“MOXXI! MOXXI! MOXXI!” THE CROWD CHANTED, INTOXICATED WITH THE HEADY COMBINATION OF VIOLENCE AND SEX APPEAL, EQUALLY PLEASED BY AN EXPLODING HEAD OR FLASH OV CLEAVAGE. AND THERE, PERCHED ABOVE IT ALL, AS THEIR ABATTOIR GODDESS, MAD MOXXI. QUEEN OF THE SLAUGHTER.

HER NIPPLES PERKED MERELY AT THE FIRST MEMORY OF THE UNDERDOME. THE THROBBING BASSLINE OF THE BAR MUSIC PROVIDING A FINE ACCOMPANIMENT TO HER EVENINGS REMINISCENCE. SHE LICKED HER FINGERS, RUNNING HER TONGUE BETWEEN HER INDEX AND MIDDLE GIDITS IN A CRUDE SIMULATION OF WHAT SHE WISHED WOULD HAPPEN FURTHER BELOW. SHE REVELED IN THE WET WARMTH FOR A MOMENT BEFORE DELVING BACK INTO HER MEMORIES. THE STRONG COMMANDO TOSSING OUT A TURRET TO DISPATCH WAVES AFTER WAVES OF PSYCHOS. THE SIREN PHASEWALKING THROUGH ENDLESS HORDES OF MARAUDERS. MALACHAI HIMSELF COOLY HEADSHOTTING NINETOES. AND BRICK…OH MY GOD, BRICK. PUNCHING SLEDGE SO HAD HIS FACE TURNED INSIDE-OUT. THE ROAR OF THE CROWD FROM THAT KILL…SHE ALMOST CAME ON THE PLATFORM DURING THE COMPETITION. SHE HAD TO SCURRY OFF THE DOME AFTERWARDS TO HURRIEDLY FINGER HERSELF INTO TRUE SATISFACTION, RIDING HIGH ON THE SCREAMS OF THE CROWD.

BUT TONIGHT SHE HAD ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD. HER HAND ONCE AGAIN DRIFTED OVER HER STOMACH, CARESSING THE POINTS SO MANY MEN AND WOMEN HAD WORSHIPED TIME AND TIME BEFORE, BUT NEVER QUITE SETTING THEM OFF THE WAY SHE DID HERSELF. SHE SUCKLED ON THE FINGERTIPS OF HER LEFT HAND, TONGUE STROKING HER FINGERS LIKE THOSE OF ANOTHER LOVER. FOUNTAINS OF GORE AND SCREAMING SPECTATORS FILLED HER MIND AS HER OTHER HAND REACHED DOWNWARDS UNDER HER PANTIES. THE HEAT BETWEEN HER THIGHS BUILT WITH EACH QUICK REPLAY IN HER MIND OF A SPECTACULAR KILL OR A FRENZIED CHEER FROM THE STADIUM’S AUDIENCE.

SHE BEGAN TO WORK HERSELF IN SILENCE,M ANY WHIMPER OR MOAN BETRAYING HER PLEASURE MUFFLED BY THE THUMPING MUSIC COMING FROM THE BAR OUTSIDE HER DOOR. ONE FINGER STROKED OVER HER CLIT, SLREADY PERT AND PEEKING OUT FROM UNDER ITS HOOD FROM THE MEMORIES OF GORE AND SPECTATOR WORSHIP. SLOWLY WORKING HER SALIVA-SLICKED FINGERTIP OVER THE TINY BUNDLE OF NERVES, SHE BEGAN TO MIRROR THE ACTION OVER ONE OF HER NIPPLES WITH THE OTHER HAND, IMAGINING THE STRONG CARESS OF ANOTHER. MAYBE THE HANDS OF THE BERSERKER, SO USED TO CRUSHING SKULLS, BUT STILL DEFT AT PLEASURING A WOMAN. MAYBE THAT OF THE ASSASSIN, WHOSE SKILL LIES IN PATIENCE UNTIL THE GREATEST PAYOFF. OR…THE SIREN, WHOSE ELDRITCH ABILITIES BELIE EVEN MORE ESOTERIC PLEASURES THAT EVEN SHE COULD IMAGINE. MOXXI GASPED, STROKING OVER HER LABIA, IMAGINING ANOTHERS’ TONGUE LAVISHING HER WITH ADORATION.

HER HIPS BUCKED AGAINST HER HAND WITH THE THOUGHT OF A PARTICULARLY SLOPPY HEADSHOT AND RESULTANT SCREAM FROM THE STANDS. SHE HAD GIVEN UP ANY PRETENSE OF BEING QUIETER THAN THE BAR MUSIC, UNCARING OF ANY BYSTANDERS HEARING HER EXULTATIONS OF PLEASURE. AFTER ALL, EVERYTHINGS BETTER WITH AN AUDIENCE,. ISN’T IT? SHE SLIPPED HER FINGERS FURTHER INTO HERSELF, SAVORING THEW WET WARMTH SO MANY OTHERS HAVE TASTED,K BUT NOT AS OFTEN AS SHE HERSELF HAD. CURLING UP AGAINST HERSELF, SHE FOUND THE BUDLE OF NERVES THAT COULD MAKE HER CRY OUT AGAIN AND AGAIN, NO MATTER WHO OR WHAT WAS TOUCHING HER.

HER FINGERS STARTED UP A CONSISTENT RHYTHM. ONE HAND SLIPPING INTO HERSELF WITH A MEASURED TRIP-HAMMER BEAT TO STAB AT HER G-SPOT, THE OTHER MIGRATING FROM HER NIPPLES TO HER SCALP, CLUTCHING AT HER HAIR INT ANGUISHED PASSION. SHE PULLED BACK OUT ONE LAST TIME TO STROKE HER CLIT BEFORE FINALLY ARCHING BACKWARDS AGAINST THE WALL OF THE BACK ROOM OF HER BAR, A CRY OF TRUE PLEASURE MIRRORING THE ROAR OF EXCITEMENT FROM THE PANDORANS IN HER ARENA CLAMORING FOR MORE BLOOD. SHE ALLOWED HERSELF ONE MORE STROKE INSIDE HER, FEELING THE MOST INTIMATE PARTS OF HER AFTERGLOW, BEFORE FINALLY LICKING THE REMAINS OF HER BLISS OFF HER FINGERS. SHE STRAIGHTENED HER TOP HAT WITH HER OTHER HAND AND BROUGHT HERSELF BACK UP TO HER FEET, ALBEIT SHAKILY.

OUTSIDE AT THE BAR A FEW MINUTES LATER, SHE WATCHED WITH FEIGNED ALOOFNESS AS A NEW VAULT HUNTER SLIPPED A THOUSAND INTO HER TIP JAR. ONE STEP CLOSER TO REBUILDING THE UNDERDOME, AND ONE STEP AWAY FROM MERELY RELYING ON MEMORIES TO GET HERSELF OFF.


End file.
